D is for ...

...dancing! When I was about ten years old, my Mum thought it would 'do me good' to learn to dance. Quite what she had in mind I'm not sure. I was a shy child (yep – I know, hard to believe) and I think she thought it would bring me out of myself.

I can remember going along to the exotically named Maple Leaf Dance Studio in my hometown with a friend called Jackie. There we would stand awkwardly and watch all these older girls (and, shock horror, boys!) gliding around the dance floor to a waltz and bouncing around with a cha, cha cha. Slowly we found the confidence to join in and attempt to acquire the skills displayed by the others. My abiding memory to this day is standing in front of a huge mirror, arms out at right angles trying to keep my head up and not look at the floor. I also remember vividly the teacher, whose name was Linda. She was orange. Well, not literally orange but she wore so much tan coloured make-up you could have scraped it off with your finger nails!

Ahhh those were the days. I eventually managed to reach the standard to take exams to achieve bronze and silver medals. These days the closest I come to dancing is the TV. I love Strictly Come Dancing (Dancing With The Stars across the pond) and find myself transported back to the 1970s really wishing I could pluck up the courage to try it again – who knows, maybe one day...

After dancing on a Saturday morning I used to meet up with my Granddad. He used to take me to a cafe which, even back then, was very old fashioned. He would treat me to an ice cream soda – I can still taste it today!

You know this Alhabe-Thursday is really making me think – I'm already thinking about next week, what the hell can I come with for E??? Ahhh – an idea is forming as I look back over this one!

Thanks for reading – I'll do my best to visit all of the others by the weekend!